


Stolen

by Stained_Inside



Category: Original Work
Genre: Atheism, Betrayal, Blackmail, Breaking The Rules, Child Abandonment, Child Prodigy, Connections In All The Right Places, Daddy Issues, Dominant, Dry Orgasm, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional neglect, Eventual Horror, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Filming, First Time, Forced Prostitution, Gay Male Character, Human Trafficking, Incest, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Trust, M/M, Multiple Partners, Murder, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pedohebephilia/Hebephilia, Pedophilia, Prepubescent orgasm, Punishment, Resentment, Revenge, Sibling Incest, Specific Audience, Stockholm Syndrome, Submission, Submissive Character, Suicide, Tags May Change, Threesome - M/M/M, Trust, Twins, child porn, child prostitution, i will always love you, position of power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stained_Inside/pseuds/Stained_Inside
Summary: Completely ignoring his remark, Mason cracked open the blinds, looking down at his watch. They were almost ten minutes late... that wasn't like her. "I've got a clean fucking record! What does she think she'll find?!"Running his free hand through still, damp hair, his mind flew to every possibility!He turned around, leaning his bottom against the windowsill, "If she takes him from me Matt, I don't know what I'll do... "The sound of tires on the gravel outside made him turn around. Matt's deep voice reassuring him, "She won't do that.  Not until the boy tells her to."





	1. The Man Who Loves Me

**Author's Note:**

> Though this story will involve graphic and disturbing content, it is being written to show what is going on inside the minds of both, the predator and the prey. How they view their relationship with each other, and their reasoning for doing the things they do. The fact that someone can be prey and not even realize it. How they can fall in love with their abuser/captor, or be blinded to the point that they will even defend them.
> 
> This is an in-depth work, not porn w/out plot. I'm also not writing this for the Kudos, as I already know that it's content is disturbing in the extreme and will probably be passed up by most. However, if someone can read it and appreciate the depth of the story, then yes, I'd like to hear from you. Or you can simply read it and enjoy in private without worrying over who knows it. I don't judge.
> 
> **This is not a story for the faint of heart! Please read the tags!**
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintended.
> 
> One last warning. This involves child/children age 5 and up, in extremely severe situations. See the tags. If anything tagged for is too upsetting for you, you may wish to hit the back button. As said in my profile, I will not give any attention to negative comments.
> 
> By no means do I agree with much of what I write about. It is fiction... nothing more, nothing less. Take from it what you will.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why would a single man that has no children want a young boy to spend the night?"
> 
> He turned to her, watching her throat bob as she swallowed. "He's my professor... my mentor... " Looking at the front of the ranch style home, the covered wrap-around porch... the swing that he and Mason had sat upon so many times together, sipping on tea as they went over his studies. "He's more of a father to me than my own is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is dedicated to my good friend, Iszabeau_N, who is too shy to take any of the credit. Without his help, this never would have been written.

_Once you've lost something, you never get it back._

~ Ciel Phantomhive

**

His contact's voice came through the other end of the phone, almost to the point of a husky whisper. "She's requested another background check on you."

"Pfft!! Really?!" He paced about nervously, trying to force down the mix of panic and irritation that threatened to rise up in his chest. Running his free hand through still damp hair, his mind flew to every possibility.

"Huh? Did you just actually make that noise? Look, I said don't worry about it. I told her the same thing I've told her the last three times."

Completely ignoring his remark, Mason cracked open the blinds, looking down at his watch. They were almost ten minutes late... that wasn't like her. "I've got a clean fucking record! What does she think she'll find?!"

"Don't curse. It doesn't sound right when you do it. Look, she's just being over-protective. Even if I wasn't the one giving her the info, I've been over it with a fine-toothed comb, you're squeaky clean. Not even an old parking ticket, and you have perfect references to boot. From other parents even."

He turned around, leaning his butt against the windowsill, "If she takes him from me, Matt, I don't know what I'll do."

The sound of tires on the gravel outside made him turn around. Matt's deep voice reassuring him, "She won't do that. Not until the boy tells her to."

**

Staring straight ahead, he listened to the tone of her voice, taking internal note of the emotion that was so obviously present. She tried so hard not to show her true concern and failed miserably every single time.

"Why would a single man that has no children want a young boy to spend the night?"

He turned to her, watching her throat bob as she swallowed. "He's my professor... my mentor... " Looking at the front of the ranch style home, the covered wrap-around porch... the swing that he and Mason had sat upon so many times together, sipping on tea as they went over his studies. "He's more of a father to me than my own is."

Turning to look at her once more just to see the stab his last remark would give her. That's exactly why he'd said it. Her face puckered slightly, her coal black eyes leveling on him, watering. "Is that why you're doing this? To... to have... he's not a replacement for your father, Jost!"

If only she knew how ridiculous she sounded saying that name! With each year, the Japanese lilt in her voice faded more and more. It was rare now for her to speak to him in her native tongue. Patrick had changed her. His small fingers tightened around the handle of his overnight bag. He hated that name! "Anyone could replace him for all he cares."

Though his voice was low, it was clear... it never wavered. "He doesn't accept me," their eyes met, "he doesn't ever speak to me. Would you force me to stay the entire weekend there, so I can be ignored? Or allow me these days here, where someone actually acknowledges me."

He wouldn't raise his voice, he didn't need to. He was correct and she knew it. There was nothing she could say to dispute him. So now came her final threat, weak at best... a last resort. "You're _my_ son! You're only five! I can tell you- "

Clutching the bag tighter! "You know my scores... intellectually I am _not_ five! That is also the reason why he doesn't accept me!"

"He just doesn't understand you, Jost... he- "

"He thinks I'm a freak." His face brightened as the side door to the house opened, Mason stepping out to greet them. "I'm leaving... Mason will drop me off on Monday."

By then the holiday weekend would be over and Patrick would be working and his mother would be taking clients. He'd take a day to rest without them surrounding him and then Mason would be back by to get him on Tuesday. They could then resume his normal weekly studies.

Without saying goodbye he reached up and opened the door. Holding tightly onto his bag, he walked past his tutor as he approached their Land Rover.

Noticing the set look on his pupil's face, and the amount of time they'd sat in the vehicle talking, he knew something was wrong. He would try to act normal with her, just to try and smooth out the situation and get her out of here, but he was sure they would be speaking about it once he got inside.

Gently laying his hands on the passenger side window frame, he took in her appearance. Visibly upset, she was close to tears. Now he was _positive_ that this was the reason for all her suspicion and nothing more.

She was jealous over the time Jost spent with him, and she was upset that her own husband, her son's own father, refused to have anything to do with him. And there was nothing that she could do to remedy _any_ of it. She was desperate.

"Thank you for dropping him off Mrs. Fischer- "

"You can tell _that_ is the attitude of a child! _Not_ an adult!"

He stood there and listened to her rant, taking her in as he heard the screen door to his home close behind them. She was a very attractive woman. Though he wasn't interested by any means, he could still notice where there was beauty.

He'd also heard people talking in their somewhat small, if not spread out community. How Patrick Fischer had ever landed her, was quite beyond everyone.

Smiling inwardly about it, one didn't see too many Japanese women in Brenham Texas. She wasn't even mixed... married to a farmer/store owner, who was a German to boot.

Oddly enough, Patrick's family had settled there some years ago and he took over their farm when they'd passed on. But her... now, _that_ was something that still puzzled folks around town.

It wasn't like they were any trouble. He was a hard worker, ran a good farm. She raised herbs and flowers and when she wasn't selling those in his market, she was working at the Doctor's clinic in town. Pain management, massage and acupuncture. Evidently something she'd taken college for in Japan before coming here.

Now that the health insurers were covering those kinds of treatments she'd reportedly been making a good business of it, and their chiropractor definitely wasn't doing any complaining over having her there. Offering it had brought him in a ton of new business, even from way out of town. She was over-booked more often than not.

Of course, people had been a little suspicious of _him_ when he'd first moved there as well. Single man, professor retired early, just wanting to rid himself of the hustle and bustle of city life. Trading it all in for the peace of what the country could offer. But that wasn't the only reason he'd moved out here. That reason had up and left him a little over two years ago now.

It was also then that he'd met Jost. Jost Toshiaki Fischer.

His parents, completely frustrated over what to do with him. Not only his parents, but the entire school system. At the ripe age of five, he had an IQ of one hundred and seventy two. At the age of three, he had surpassed all of the teachers in their tiny community, and his father absolutely refused to move to, or send him to a local that could accommodate what he needed.

If he'd been older, he could've gone to any university or institute and stayed on campus. But at the age he was, there was no way he could stay alone. They would have to move, and his father...again, would not do that.

He'd also thought it was perhaps a money issue, but there was no doubt with his special abilities that he would qualify for scholarships and grants. Also, possible future employers would just love to give money for a chance at having him within their grasp.

When he'd first met him two years ago at the age of three, he'd been in the process of learning his fourth language, but was limited to studying out of college text books. Books that his mother had bought online from colleges, and some from previous students just trying to rid themselves of old books in the hopes of getting quick cash. Unable to find schooling for him locally, and finding out from people in town that he would give tutoring for a fee, his mother had finally sought him out.

Along with that, had come the normal questions of course, and the background check. He had references, and his background was clean. Even if it was a hassle, it was necessary. He knew that.

For the last two years, he had been Jost's only teacher. When the boy wasn't with him, he was studying on his own from texts that he was now acquiring for him. But even with all his knowledge and resources, both online and through text, he was nearing his own limit of what he could actually teach him. _And_ what could be taught without the use of the proper facilities.

What the boy needed was to be sent abroad. At first he kept telling her that. Telling her what institutes could offer him in Tokyo, France, Germany and if they didn't want to travel that far this early, even numerous places here in the United States. But after awhile he'd quit. Not only did he realize that she wasn't going to listen, but now he didn't _want_ him to leave.

They didn't deserve to have a child like him.

From what Jost had told him, the only information Akemi would give him, was that she'd evidently had a falling out with her family in Japan when she was in college. And rebelling against what was expected of her there, in just her early twenties, had left home with some of her school acquaintances, traveling here. She'd eventually met Patrick Fischer and the rest was history.

No matter how many times he'd asked her about his Japanese heritage, she wouldn't answer any of his questions. Not even to tell him of her family name. He knew why as well. Jost would try to find them online and she knew it!

To Jost, she was robbing him of his lineage! She'd forbade him, and he couldn't stand it!

The boy didn't care about Patrick's side of his family. All that had been here at one time were now dead. He didn't speak to him enough to tell him anything anyway. From the time he could remember, Patrick had been cold towards him. Even as a toddler, he never remembered the man showing him an ounce of affection. Not even pride over any of his accomplishments.

He resented him! He hated him! Him, and all to do with him! More than once he'd renounced him, stating that if it weren't for their slight resemblance to one another, he would even doubt the man was his blood relative.

To Mason, he was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. Beautiful, but strange. Different. Not really strange in the way of his intelligence. Over the many years of his teaching career, he'd met numerous brilliant people from all walks of life. People of many different ages as well.

Of course, brilliant minds at the age of five were very rare. That was not what made Jost strange. It was a combination of things. It was how he looked, his cold, detached demeanor and his brilliance combined.

He was at an average height and weight for a five year old here in the States. He knew this, because since he'd began tutoring him, not only had he weighed him and measured him monthly, but Jost told him in great detail of every other Doctor appointment that he'd ever had.

Gifted with his mother's beautiful skin. Even toned and not too extremely fair, but still creamy in appearance. In the summertime he could get fairly dark, as he tanned very easily. He had hair that looked black when not in the direct sunlight. But when the sun hit it, deep red highlights were noticeable.

That was his father's blood. Patrick's lineage. Dark, wavy hair with the same auburn in it, and deep, blue eyes. Jost had his eyes, though mostly just in color. His eyes were more rounded than his mother's were, and they were the deepest blue. Small nose, and full, perfectly shaped little lips. Exquisite bone structure, high cheek bones, a slender neck and a well defined jaw. Little ears that seemed to hug his head, almost elfin in appearance.

His hair was wavy to a point that it was unruly in the extreme. Even with it being as short as it was, no matter what you did it wouldn't lay down properly. Locks of it stuck out as they pleased all over his head.

More than once, she had told him that she thought perhaps growing it out some would tame the waviness in it, but with where they were it would probably be looked down upon. She didn't want Jost to feel anymore out of place than he already did.

Of course, what he'd wanted to say back to her, he didn't! What he'd wanted to say, _was that she and her husband were the ones that thought he was out of place. That _they_ made him feel out of fucking place!_

Instead, what he'd said was, 'He doesn't really see anyone, Mrs. Fisher. Why don't you just do what you feel would benefit him and try not to worry over what other people think.'

It was then that another truth had slipped out. Her reply had been, that his father wouldn't tolerate a boy with long hair. It had taken everything he'd had in him to control his expression. Abruptly ending the conversation, he'd simply nodded his head and bid her adieu.

The raise in the pitch of her voice, was what made him come back to present. "Could you please talk to him? Patrick is his father! He needs to acknowledge that and respect him!"

He just stared at her, weighing the options of his responses. What he wanted to say, was probably not the right thing to say. He didn't want her to take Jost from him, and yet he felt the need to defend him.

Backing away from the window to straighten his stance, he stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Mrs. Fischer, I'm not sure that I'm the- "

Taking one hand to wipe at her face, the other feeling around in her purse for a kleenex, "But you're so close to him! He'll listen to you!"

"I don't want to offend you or your husband, Mrs. Fischer, I truly don't, and I love having Jost here. I feel that for a boy like him, he needs an atmosphere that is conducive to his learning, so I hope that this won't sway how you feel about him being taught by me. But I truly feel that it is his father's responsibility to acknowledge his son."

Clutching the tissue in one hand, the other picking at the leather on the steering wheel, she stared off into space. She already knew what he'd just said was true, and she'd probably had numerous painful conversations with her husband over it, only to come up empty.

It was going to, or had already come down to a choice, and it would be _her_ choice.

And that choice was... is the man I'm married to, more important than my son? She could either leave and take Jost with her, giving him the life and the possibilities that he deserved, or she could stay and forget about what was best for her child. Not only forcing him to live around a man that seemed to have massive issues with his own son, but completely disregarding what was best for his education or emotional well-being. 

The latter choice was going to mess Jost up, if that's what was chosen.

Seeing that she wasn't going to answer, he would take the initiative. Lowering his voice so he wouldn't sound too harsh, "Mrs. Fischer, it is true that Jost opens up to me, but I am simply his teacher. If I'm not being too bold, you might try to find a family counselor."

Before he could even step away from the vehicle, she had it in reverse! Mason jumped back, startled, as gravel shot up at him! Little stones sprayed out from under her tires, hitting him and door of his garage! Glancing back toward the house for just a second before turning his attention once again to her, he dusted himself off, watching as she got onto the main roadway and drove off.

This wasn't the first time that she'd left angry, and it probably wouldn't be the last. In his eyes, it was less to do with Jost than it was his father. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and her son was right there with her. The problem was, she couldn't get her husband to step up and do the right thing, and was now attempting to put the ball into her five year old's court.

The whole thing pissed him off! Jost may not be five intellectually, but emotionally, even though his intellect gave him a few more years than his age, he was still a young child. Which was part of the draw for him as well. Jost was perfect for him. Of course, at one time he'd thought the same thing about Shawn.

There had been many perfect boys.

But as soon as he'd first seen _him_... met him, he knew this time it was different. Jost was different, and he didn't want it to end. Not with this one.

Each time, was like falling in love for the first time. He was fascinated by their beauty, their youth... their innocence. The sight of their slender form, free from the aged look that an adult would have. He yearned to feel that soft, downy hair that covered them in all the right places. All the sweet unexplored areas that just awaited his touch. He could get hard just thinking about it.

The first touch... that first kiss... the first taste, was always oh so sweet! Small, tender lips, and he would be _so_ very gentle. He never wanted to hurt, no. He'd take his time, getting close and building the relationship, moving things in the direction that he needed them to go in. And when the time was right, they would allow him.

His patience was almost always rewarded too. The sight of a young boy feeling pleasure for the very first time... the sound of it. The soft, innocent voice, as he was asked for more... as they clung to him after, breathless and shaken. And though it was often a rarity that they were with him long enough, he may even get the honor of tasting the first seed they ever spilled.

Some of the boys he had taught, had been far too distant to enjoy the touch and closeness of another human being. It was true. Many overly intelligent people lacked social skills, not feeling comfortable around others. Those, he would simply teach and move on to another that was more accepting and easier to trust. He usually knew which ones were best. You could tell. There were signs. Boys that had a shaky home life responded better to attention, they _wanted_ it, they _needed_ it!

Jost didn't do well with emotions. Not that he didn't feel them, but he analyzed them. Thinking about each thing before he acted, reacted or spoke. And he was curious. Curious about other's emotions and why they did the things they did. He'd also found that he didn't abhor contact the way that some of the other boys did. Perhaps it was just with _him._ _That_ he didn't know yet. But they were moving on quite nicely, at just the right pace.

Just thinking about it made him smile as he turned and walked back to the house. If they were fortunate enough to have no further interruptions, they would have three days and three nights together. His home... his pool... his bed.

Their relationship was about to level up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote: Ciel Phantomhive - Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji)
> 
> I know it may seem impossible for a child of that age to have that level of IQ, but I did my research prior to writing this. If you look up child prodigy, highest IQ's etc, you can find a ton. Also, I realize that pedophilia more often than not involves children that are prepubescent, but not always. Of course almost all of the victims are pre-teen. Unless the adult is displaying what is called Pedohebephilia, which I also tagged for. (See my comments at the end of the next chapter, as it will explain more.)


	2. Stages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men like _him_ always made sure they were in the right position. Sometimes, however, men like him fought their desires, tried to hide from what they were. But sooner or later it always took over, and they would realize that every step of their lives, every decision, had been subconsciously made to fit their inner needs.

☆☆

Jost stood at the window overlooking the drive, watching the dust settle from where she'd peeled out and sped away. His duffle bag still clutched tightly within his little hands.

Mason couldn't really tell what he was feeling, as his face was completely blank.

Using his Japanese given name, as he knew Jost hated his German name, it was an agreement they'd made pretty much at the very start of their relationship. "Toshiaki... " Almost surprising to himself, his voice came out a soft whisper. 

Jost turned to him, a determined look set all over his beautiful face. "I will not see a counselor, Mason. I refuse!"

With that, he turned away from him and walked through the living room, down a short hallway that led to the sitting room where their daily lessons took place. Mason followed him quietly, wanting to continue the conversation, but he knew that Jost just wasn't ready to say anything more right then.

This was something he did quite frequently when he was agitated, and usually this was over something having to do with his father and the situation at home. He would literally leave and walk into another room. Sometimes this happened so abruptly that it would take place mid-sentence.

After this had happened several times, Mason finally learned that what Jost actually wanted was for him to come after him. The emotions that he was feeling were uncomfortable and he didn't quite understand how to deal with them. So him leaving the room where he was feeling them was possibly his way of trying to leave the uncomfortable feelings behind.

He wanted a clear space to think about what he was feeling, and leaving the area for a moment was his way of detaching himself so he could think objectively about it. As a spectator might perhaps, so he could pick it apart and analyze it.

But he _wanted_ Mason to come after him. He _wanted_ Mason to care... to make him feel better. He _knew_ that Mason would follow, that he would come to him. And when Mason got to him, he would break down. He would show how he felt. Each time was a little different. Sometimes it was slow, almost agonizingly so.

But the end result was always the same. They would touch.

There would always be some form of physical contact. The first time had been the hardest. He'd still never seen Jost cry. He didn't _want_ to see him cry. But the boy had never spilt tears in his presence.

He could only imagine that as hard as it was for him to show his feelings, getting to the point of tears could be extremely exasperating for him. He couldn't tolerate losing control.

Another reason for him to leave the room when he got upset.

He couldn't handle feeling what he was feeling, but to show it to someone else... well, that was literally intolerable.

The very first time this had happened, he'd stormed into Mason's room of all places. His little hands fisted up at his sides, he'd stared at the wall, his back turned to him. Mason hadn't said a thing. He'd simply stood there in the doorway, looking at him. Watching him.

Very quietly and calmly Jost had said his piece, and after he was done he'd looked down at the floor, his fingers slowly worrying at the material of his pants. Mason had walked over to his bed and sat down.

The softest voice had come from the boy, making his heart hurt. He wanted to comfort him. 'Mason... ' he swallowed, 'may I... will you... '

Getting up, he'd walked the short distance to him. There was no making him come to where he sat, as if he would've done that anyway. He was by no means a control freak. He got no thrill over getting another to bend to his will.

He _wanted_ Jost to _want_ to come to him. But that would wait. He knew it would happen in time. All good things came to those who waited. Right? It was all about patience.

Right now, he would be there for him.

Stopping directly behind him, he'd bent down onto one knee and whispered. 'Toshiaki... what do you need?'

He couldn't say it. He literally could not say that he needed physical contact. That he needed the touch of another. But that's what it boiled down to. Jost turned and without warning, walked into his arms, hiding his face against Mason's shoulder.

He didn't weep. No words were spoken. Very carefully and very slowly, Mason had wrapped his arms around him and held him. Just that contact... that touch, that embrace... feeling his little form so warm and alive against him, was enough to do him in.

Here was this small child that refused to make a sound, to give any verbal indication of what he needed so badly, and yet _he,_ the adult in the situation, was close to falling apart.

This boy that was his ultimate fantasy, that he was in fear of never being able to have what he _so_ wanted to have between them, had just shown the need for affection from him. _From HIM!!_

And he would give him every ounce of what he needed. But he had to have patience. He had to take care not to move too fast and scare the boy. It would all be done in good time. The more he gave what Jost needed, the more he was there for him... an ally, the more Jost would trust him.

It was all about teaching, see. Well, trust and teaching. If he had the child with him from a young enough age, he could mold them. He could teach them what the right ways were and he would do it slowly, almost agonizingly so.

There were stages. And for each boy those stages could change. The one thing that always remained the same though, was who made physical contact first. He always let them touch _him_ first.

Physical contact was never initiated by him, and _that_ helped build the trust between them. If an adult, especially one that was not one of their parents, or an adult that was in a position of authority made contact first, it could scare the child or give them the feeling that the contact wasn't right.

And not even speaking of sensual contact. Any contact at all!

That was where most of those that got caught made their first mistake.

Of course, many weren't in the situation that he was in either. Those people, the ones that took what they wanted without regard for the child, the situation or the ramifications, were either stupid or desperate. Perhaps both. 

Or those that literally just took children to satisfy their needs. They were the ones that got caught. _They_ were the ones that gave men like _him_ a bad name.

He never, ever _took_ what he wanted. It was always given willingly. The boy wanted it. They wanted _him_. It was a good and loving experience for them, and over their time with him they were changed. Changed to the way they should have been all along.

And after they left him, they would probably always crave the touch of a male. Many, missing what they'd had with him, would seek out an older, more mature male to get what they needed.

But some... some would be like him. And if they had learned and remembered what he'd taught them, they would not only end up in a position where they had constant access to what they needed, they would make sure of it!

They would be in a trusted position. A position of authority perhaps, and what they needed would come to them. Just like the second man that he'd ever been with.

Men like _him_ always made sure they were in the right position. Sometimes, however, men like him fought their desires and tried to hide from what they were. But sooner or later it always took over, and they would realize that every step of their lives, every decision, had been subconsciously made to fit their inner needs.

The clergyman that had been his second, had turned to his God in the hopes to fight what he was. Just like his father had turned to God in the hopes to fight it. Hoping that marrying and fathering a child would change what he was.

But Jacob, he'd been so riddled with guilt over it that he'd made the decision to become celibate, which had just tormented him even further.

The fact that he was surrounded by what he craved but could not have. His weakness, was what had finally done him in. And he'd done it to himself. Why? Because subconsciously he had put himself right where he needed to be.

They'd had numerous conversations about it, laying in his chambers after intimacy. Mason curled up beside him, the large, but soft hand stroking over his back. Manicured nails giving the slightest of tickles now and again to make sure that he was still awake and listening to what he had to say.

Mason didn't believe in God. He never had and never would. It was simply his father's way of trying to protect him when he was little. Protect him from not only his Grandfather, but from himself.

The first time he'd taken cock, he'd been five. The perfect age in his opinion. Oh there were many other things that one could do before then to sate their appetite. But there was nothing quite so good as sheathing oneself inside of something so tender and tight.

Five was just right. Not too small that physical harm was apt to be done, if one was careful and gentle enough. And yet old enough to really start understanding what to do and when. Old enough to actually give and take without as much instruction.

Five was just right.

That was what his Grandfather had murmured into his ear, as his sweating body folded around his. The salt and pepper colored hairs on his chest, running over the backs of Mason's shoulders and neck as he rocked against him.

His small penis still tender from all his Grandfather's ministrations in getting him ready for such an auspicious occasion as his first time. The delicate skin on his inner thighs mottled red from his beard scraping against them while he'd mouthed and sucked him down there.

Just as the inner portion of his ass cheeks had been for the two whole days following, from not only his oral attention, but the course hairs that surrounded his cock being rubbed against him over and over as they connected.

His mother had been ill and required surgery. The only hospital that could accommodate what she needed was in a neighboring state that would require his father to be gone for a period of over a week.

It was then that he'd known a man fully for the first time. Before that, anytime he was there visiting, his Grandpa would steal him away for little private moments, making sure that his father was busy doing something else and wouldn't notice their absence. It was like that from the earliest time that he could ever remember.

Much to his Grandmother's chagrin, he had never been allowed to stay overnight with them until then. His Grandpa would tell him stories of how he'd spent time with his father when he was little, and that his father was jealous and didn't want him to have any time with Mason. Afraid that they would get too close.

It wasn't too long after that stay with them that his father had slept with him for the first time. His mother was still recouping and so his father was forced to stay in the spare room. One night Mason had awoken with his father beside him in his small twin bed, curled up around him, crying.

For a long time after their first time together, he cried. Sometimes before, apologizing for what he wanted, seeking acceptance. Sometimes after, for his own guilt. Mason would wipe his tears away and hold him, telling him that he loved him.

Then the crying stopped.

He'd tried to fight it. He really had. But eventually it had won over and he accepted it. Turning to his God hadn't helped.

Mason knew that it was just a matter of time, as his Grandfather had told him as well. It was just a matter of time before his father would come to visit him in the night, or every time his mother was gone from the house. A matter of time before he would take unnecessary days off to be with him.

His father displayed the same signs as his Grandfather had. He always had. His touches always lingered a little longer than they should've, and he always had an excuse to touch. Always. And if there wasn't one, he would create it.

He'd even caught him masturbating after they would play or spend time together. Several of these times, he'd watched through the bathroom keyhole as his father dug through the clothes hamper until he found a pair of his little Hanes briefs. He'd sat on the toilet seat with them wrapped around his cock, thrusting through them until he spent himself.

There was no other reason than that he wanted him. He wanted him, but was afraid to really act upon it.

Their relationship lasted until he was eleven. The first time he ejaculated and semen flowed from him, his father was completely disgusted. He tried to hide it, he even lied and said that it had just surprised him. But Mason knew the look that had overtaken his face.

He'd quickly shoved him away, getting out of the bed! Mason had lain there, watching his father's hands shake as he looked at what was on them. He sputtered for a moment, unable to get clear words out. When he was finally able to speak, he didn't even look at him. Quickly pulling his pajama bottoms on, he left Mason's room.

He would never, ever forget laying there, hearing the shower start in the bathroom across the hall. The agony he felt in his heart, knowing that instead of his father, who just a few days ago would have been still laying next to him complaining that he had to get up soon and go into his own room, now couldn't get clean fast enough. He couldn't wait to get away from him and wash off what had come out of him.

Instead of what had just happened being a special occasion for them both to share, it had turned into a nightmare. And for the first time since he'd been intimate with _any_ man, he'd cried.

That was the very last time he was touched.

Two weeks later, his father went into their garage with his twelve gauge shotgun and ate the barrel. 

He'd come home from school to an empty house. Calling out for his father, who should've been home as his car was in the drive, and getting no answer.

He'd gone through every room, finally walking out to the garage to see what had once been his father's head painted all over the wall and window behind where his body lay on the cement floor.

There was no note. Nothing. But he knew why he did it. There were several reasons. The first, was Guilt. _That_ was what his God had done for him.

The second, was the fact that not only had he caved and done the exact thing that he'd tried so very hard to keep from doing. But as much as he'd wanted his son at one time, he could no longer have him. The thought now filled him with revulsion.

Mason was no longer his little boy. He was becoming a man. And he could no longer live with the knowledge of any of it.

His relationship with Jacob had ended even earlier, as had his Grandfather's. He was no longer what they wanted. The pain and distress that he'd felt at their rejection had taught him many things, but one in particular would always stand out the most.

The fact that he could never do that to anyone. He would never hurt a boy that he cared about, the way they had hurt him.

Even though the realization of it had pained him horribly over the years, he knew that none of them had ever really been worthy of him, and never again, would he feel that kind of anguish at another man's hands. Never again.

 _He_ would be the one now, that would comfort and show love. _He_ would be the teacher.

**

Taking a sharp right turn down the small hallway that led to his room, he knew where he was going. This was where it always happened. The bedroom.

They were making good headway. He wanted him to be comfortable here.

Standing behind him, he waited for a sign. Jost faced the wall. Mason's queen sized bed to their right, walk-in closet straight ahead and to the left, window on the opposite bedside.

And Mason's personal computer sitting upon a desk in the corner. The computer that was his and _not_ for teaching studies. Jost never even glanced at that, ever. 

Realizing after a few minutes had passed that Jost wasn't going to speak, he decided to. "I didn't realize that you'd heard."

Getting down onto one knee, he stared at the boy's back. "By no means did I intend to imply that _you_ needed counseling Toshiaki. It is _them_ that need it."

Jost startled him by turning around, his deep blue eyes staring into his. The lack of emotion on his face frustrating him even further, as he really had no idea what he was feeling or thinking. No facial expression to guide him.

"Speaking to a Doctor will not make my parents care about me. There is nothing that can be given to one that lacks what should already be there internally!"

He swallowed, nodding. "You are correct. Forgive me for suggesting it to her. I was just... well, I was angry."

He wanted to look down at the floor, but he wouldn't. He wanted Jost to know that he could trust him. That he was telling the truth, and eye contact was very important. 

Jost took a step forward, his head tilting to one side, dark, arched eyebrows gathered up just slightly. "Angry? Tell me why."

Licking his lips, he knew every miniscule movement that he made was being studied. "I was angry that she thought you should respect someone that doesn't accept you. I was angry, because it is _their_ responsibility to be parents to _you,_ Toshiaki."

Even after he was done speaking, Jost watched him closely. "Those were the only reasons?"

Ah! He was searching! The embers within him burst into flame as he realized what this question meant. Jost was searching! He _wanted_ Mason to tell him _more_ than just how his mother and the situation in itself, had made him feel. He wanted Mason to tell him how _he_ felt! 

Swallowing once more, he couldn't keep the emotion from his voice, nor from his face as he told him. "I was angry because I care about you, Toshiaki. I care about you."

Staring into one another's eyes, Jost finally walked forward and embraced him. Very slowly, he wrapped his arms around him and held him. There were no words, just the soft flutter of breath through the blonde hairs at the nape of his neck. 

There were stages: trust, physical contact, declarations.

He had taken this step. He had told him how he felt. Now, he would wait.

Patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so we're all clear, and then I won't bore anyone with clinical verbiage after this. Most studies have shown that under 50% of pedophiles were victims of sexual abuse. Most... but not all. A lot of studies were inconclusive and shown that many sex offenders changed their stories or later admitted to things that were denied prior. Also, I have added Pedohebephilia to the tags, an actual term, which is the primary or exclusive sexual attraction by an adult, to prepubescent _and_ pubescent children. So it's like a combo of the two.
> 
> Hebephilia, which is the sexual attraction by an adult to pubescent children and young teens, usually ranging from ages 11 to 14/15 and can vary, due to the fact that the ages of puberty onset vary per child. And just so everyone knows, the term in itself had been under a great degree of argument by professionals simply because there is no proof that this, like pedophilia, is in fact an actual illness. It is arguably a simple sexual preference. There! enough of the clinical blather.
> 
> Also, please remember that what I'm telling in this chapter and the story where Mason is concerned, is coming from his mind... his feelings and reality, his version of love.


	3. Shawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn had been with him the longest, being ten when they had moved. In fact, he'd been the only one with him long enough to actually ejaculate. He would never forget that.
> 
> No, he had the film of the very special occasion saved, so that he could watch it over and over.

**

Jost stood on the concrete that surrounded the pool, staring down at his bare feet. The sun was getting lower in the sky, to the point that some much needed shadow fell on the pool's deck area.

The temperature outside was finally getting to a degree that one could actually stand to be out in it for decent periods of time. They had the water at least. That would keep them cool enough for the next few days.

Just thinking about being able to be here for that length of time and not having to be at home at all, not having to be around his mother and Patrick was enough to arouse great elation within him.

Raising his gaze away from his toes, he looked up at Mason. His teacher was standing in the corner by the chain link fence that surrounded the pool area, turning chicken breasts on the grill.

He watched him, considering what had happened and what he'd allowed himself to show earlier, and how Mason was now not only comfortable with it, but he'd actually admitted his love for him as well.

The first time he'd shown Mason that he needed affection, to be embraced by him, he'd agonized over it for days after. Wondering over the consequences of such a display. Wondering how and if it could possibly make Mason feel any differently towards him.

It had taken him a long time to realize that he loved him. That the complex and confusing emotions that he had been feeling were actually love. He loved this man who was his teacher, his mentor.

The first time Mason had hugged him, he'd been terrified that perhaps the fact that he needed that kind of attention from him would somehow take away from what they had. And for that to happen, it would surely kill him.

Now, he knew that it wouldn't kill him physically, of course. But it would cause him severe emotional pain. He couldn't bear the thought of Mason not being in his life. He feared that his need for this type of thing from him would be too great a demand for the man and that he would decide teaching him was too much of a burden.

When just a few days after the first time he'd shown his need to Mason for affection, there had been no negative outcome from it, he started to feel that it would be acceptable. In fact their relationship had seemed to only grow and thrive.

He felt that Mason wanted to show him affection as well, he just was apprehensive to approach him without a signal of some sorts being shown first. Hence the reason why he would go to the bedroom. This being the place where they'd first embraced, where he'd finally broken down and shown his teacher that he needed to feel loved, it seemed like the obvious place that this should happen every time.

Finally taking a seat in one of the nearby pool loungers, he continued to watch him, the smells from the chicken making his mouth water.

Mason's swim shorts were still damp, as his were from their time in the pool. A smile tugged at his lips, slowly fighting to take over his face and he let it. Before coming here, he'd never felt a real reason to smile.

Certainly there were times that he'd felt at ease or even serene. But there were very few things that had overwhelmed him to the point of bringing an actual smile to his face.

Remembering their time in the pool was one of those things. Being with Mason, was one of those things. They'd actually played together. Mason had _played_ with him.

Picking him up out of the water and holding him over his head, only to toss him back in again. Much to his own surprise he'd been more than at ease through it all, he'd actually laughed.

The first one to come out of him had almost seemed to shock Mason, but he'd made sure to very quickly correct the expression on his face. He could tell that Mason wanted him to feel at ease about showing his emotions. He didn't want him to feel uncomfortable about expressing himself. And Mason was afraid if he seemed shocked by it then he would feel even more self conscious about it.

It was becoming less and less hard to show it. Around him anyway...with him. While they'd been in the pool, he'd felt almost overwhelmed by the amount of physical contact they'd had. It wasn't a bad feeling, it was almost what he would liken to a drugged feeling. Euphoric and surreal.

He'd been filled with happiness, excitement, and a longing for it not to diminish. Once he recognized what he was feeling, he'd held on to it, feeling almost saddened when it was time to get out of the pool. And even though he didn't want to, he understood Mason's reasoning. The pads of his fingers had been incredibly pruned and both their stomachs were grumbling from hunger, and yet he still was disappointed.

Though the realization of it had come as quite a shock, for the first time he felt like a child. Any other regular child.

One who had spent a wonderful afternoon with their father, playing in the water and now it was time for the fun to end. Dinnertime was upon them, then it would be time to shower and get ready for bed.

Bedtime. His hand went up to his mouth to feel the smile that still lingered there. He would get to sleep next to Mason in his huge bed. His smile grew, and for a moment he wondered just why it was that he felt so excited over something so simple as sleeping in the same bed as him.

His smile faltered as he thought about it. It was for no more than the simple reason that he would be close to Mason. He would be close to him.

Taking in a silent breath, he wondered what Mason would do if he were to show him affection without going to the bedroom. Perhaps he would try and find out. After all, he knew that Mason loved him now, it should be alright.

Standing up, he took another deep breath in attempt to ready himself and slowly walked around the pool to where Mason stood at the grill.

**

Startled, Mason looked down as a small hand was placed in his. The deepest blue eyes looked up into his brown ones, an unsure smile on a beautiful little face, surrounded by still, damp curls.

Just seeing this... the fact that it was happening, that Jost felt the way he did, forced his heart to absolutely brim over with joy!

Sparing a glance at their now joined hands, he forced his eyes back up to Mason's. "I've had a wonderful afternoon, Mason."

Forcing the chuckle that wanted to escape him down, he smiled back. It never ceased to amaze him how someone who looked like an average five year old... a beautiful, average five year old, could speak words that sounded like they should be coming out of an aged professor's mouth. It was like someone else was trapped in this little body, living their life through him.

Giving his little hand a light squeeze, "I'm so very glad Toshiaki, so have I. The chicken is almost ready, would you please get us some napkins from the kitchen?"

The small hand pulled away. Mason watched as Jost walked calmly but quickly to the house, opening and walking in through the sliding glass doors that led to his kitchen. Once he was safely out of his sight, he turned back toward the grill and slowly and as inconspicuously as possible, moved his hand down to hover over his crotch.

He had to get control! He just had to! It was too much! Their physical contact in the pool and now this. He needed release so badly, but he had to be so careful. At this rate he wouldn't be able to sleep next to him without being hard all night.

He couldn't be in this state around Jost where he could see it or feel it, and there was no way that he would allow something to get in the way of their first night together, even if all they did was sleep.

Sleeping in the same bed was a very important step! If he allowed something to interfere in this, then they may have a setback and that was unacceptable! He'd waited too long!

His ears tuned in to the sounds behind him. Jost hadn't opened the door back up yet or he'd have heard it. Very quickly, he latched onto his erection and gave it a vicious squeeze! Gritting his teeth against the pain to stay silent, within just seconds he could feel it start to go down and let go.

No sooner than he'd let go, he heard the sound of the slider doors being opened behind him. Wiping away the sweat that had sprung up on his forehead, he listened to the patter of Jost's little feet as the boy walked toward the picnic table to evidently lay the napkins down, relief flooding through him that he hadn't immediately come back to where he stood. He wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

He would definitely be relieving himself while he showered.

**

While he'd had to force himself to not be over attentive the entire time they were eating, he was pleased that the meal went very well. Of course they'd eaten together many times before, but not dinner.

Dinner was important. Another important step. Every step outside of their norm was important.

He'd asked him if he would rather shower than take a bath, and while most five year olds would be taking a bath still, Jost couldn't stand the thought of sitting in his own dirty water. And for just a moment, he'd wanted to commend him verbally for his opinion on that, as it was something that an adult would be more likely to say, but he didn't.

For if he had, he knew that Jost would bristle at such a comment, no matter how it was put. Saying something to the effect that it was neither adult nor childish, it was simply common sense.

Mason remembered a conversation they'd had about it previously. Jost had said that if someone wanted to sit in a spa bath of types, they would bathe first, as the whole point of that type of bath was not to get clean, but to gain the health benefits from it.

Having done research on his Mother's culture, he'd shown some open disdain for the community baths that are still quite common in Japan. Speaking quite frankly about it, he'd said that even though each person thoroughly washed themselves prior to getting in, it was the fact that they were all in the same water, having conversations while naked.

Gathering from the expressions Jost had put no effort into hiding during this conversation, he'd realized that the boy had put quite a bit of thought into it. And it had also made him wonder over how he would react about using his pool together, or even if he would be able to get him in it.

Seeing from how he'd been today, that definitely wouldn't be a problem.

It had also made him wonder about physical contact once their relationship grew. Even though they'd made extreme headway this afternoon in that arena, what he wanted was much different than some playtime in the pool.

Seeing each other naked, having Jost see _him_ naked and aroused. Touching each other, was much much different than playing. The end goal was to have him not only accept all that _he_ wanted, but enjoy it and look forward to it as well.

The whole time they were eating, that's what had been in the back of his mind. That, and the hope that now filled him. The hope that what he'd so yearned for would possibly become a reality.

After all, he'd invested a lot of time and effort in Jost, and for that to all be yanked away due to a simple mistake would be incredibly devastating. He loved him. He did. But to have a love separated from him before he was ready, he wasn't sure if he could deal with that kind of pain again.

 _And_ depending on the stage of his relationship with the child, it could have horrible effects on _them_ as well. Those effects could also pose as a very real threat to him if the child wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with the loss of someone that they'd become intimate with.

Saying that he'd been more than lucky in the past was a gross understatement.

Shawn was old enough to understand that his time with him was over. His parents were moving due to a job change and the area just happened to have a facility that could accommodate him at the level he'd gotten to. It had been what was best for all of them.

Even though it was quite sudden, their plans to move. And he'd had some apprehension over it of course, wondering whether or not they had suspicions of anything that might lead to trouble. Shawn hadn't ever let on to him that they knew anything. But then again, he'd never heard from him after the move either. Which he'd found unsettling at best.

It was out of pure mourning that he'd made sure that Shawn remembered his email, that he'd made sure to tell him to keep in touch, but only if he wanted to. Remembering the tears that had left him saying those words. How they'd held one another and cried.

He hadn't been sure afterwards whether or not that had been a good idea, leaving his email the same or not and he'd spent quite a bit of time fretting over it. But Matt had actually said that he'd done everything the way he should have.

The fact that he'd moved a few months afterwards hadn't been suspicious, but if he changed his email address as well and then the boy couldn't get in touch with him if he wanted to, there was a chance it could be seen as such. Especially since he'd been his tutor for as long as he had and the fact that they'd had an obviously close relationship.

The relationship that was visible to Shawn's parents and to others, had been a very socially acceptable and legally appropriate relationship. The type that any child would have with a mentor that they looked up to.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, and if Shawn's parents ever had worries, they had certainly never voiced them. Not to him nor to anyone that would have taken action, because he'd never heard anything and it'd been almost three years now.

In fact, Shawn would soon be celebrating his thirteenth birthday. He thought about him all the time.

Shawn had been with him the longest, being ten when they had moved. In fact, he'd been the only one with him long enough to actually ejaculate. He would never forget that. No, he had the film of the very special occasion saved, so that he could watch it over and over.

He had every single one saved, of every single boy that he'd ever been with. That was something Matt _had_ warned him about, and quite severely so. Of course that hadn't kept him from wanting a copy of them all, especially his last one with Shawn.

They both knew how to get rid of them permanently if there was ever a need. Of course, to do so after all these years... all the memories that would be lost. That would be an excruciating thing to have to do. But there was always the chance that it may be necessary.

One of his excuses to Matt for him to make them and keep them, was the fact that he would never have to worry over finding porn when the need to relieve himself grew too great.

And Matt's reaction to this excuse had been, that making them had posed a much greater risk! The fact that he'd taken the time to blur his face out of each one didn't matter, nor the fact that he'd scrambled the sound of his name as it left several of the boy's lips.

He'd said that not only was the inside of his home visible, which even though it was a prior residence, it could still be proven to be him, given the time frame and age of each boy. But the rest of his body could be distinguished in each video.

Should he be prepared? Prepared for something to go wrong? Even if he'd taken every precaution, even if he didn't want something to happen, that didn't mean that every aspect of them being together was within his control.

Jost's mother was going to be a problem. _She_ was the one that took the control out of his hands. His father didn't give a shit whether or not he was at home. He'd be willing to bet every cent he had, that Patrick couldn't care less whether or not Jost even came home at night!

It was her. She cared just enough to be a pain in the ass! It was _her_ that he would have to watch out for. It was _her_ that could fuck everything up that he'd worked so hard for!

Just thinking about her pissed him off! Snorting a quick breath out through his nose, Mason closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. What he needed was some relief, so he could think clearly prior to bedtime.

Listening as Jost moved around in the bathroom, preparing to shower, he sat down at the computer desk in his room. Even though he'd never showered there before, he was already well versed with where everything was located. Regardless of his age, he hated to be doted upon and took every opportunity he had to exercise any form of independence that he could.

Knowing he had some time, even a few minutes would be enough. He pushed the button in on the tower and waited for the screen saver to come up. It was new. A picture he'd taken of Jost and himself as they'd sat on his front porch last Autumn.

A smile came to Mason's lips as he remembered the day he'd taken it. Positioning his phone just so and setting the timer. Running back to sit next to his waiting pupil. Wanting to pose a little, but yet still make it look natural.

Jost sat next to him. The weather still warm enough to be wearing shorts, he wore dark navy blue cotton ones that brought out the color of his eyes, along with a white short sleeved button down shirt. His little bare legs, brown from the long summer, were crossed together at the feet, dangling below the swing.

The corners of his perfect little lips were curved upwards just a touch as he'd leaned into him before the click went off. It was the closest thing that he'd seen to a smile on the little guy's face prior to today. And he would never forget either.

Touching the number lock button, he typed in his passcode. Something else that changed with each child. This was something that even Matt didn't know and was constantly wanting, which he didn't understand the reasoning behind. Why on earth should he know his passcode? If he knew how simple it was, he'd probably be scolding him over that as well.

Rolling his eyes, he moved the mouse to open his files. Clicking on his private stash, he opened Shawn's folder. Taking a second to listen again, the shower started. He could hear the curtain rings sliding over the metal rod as Jost pulled it across.

He had at least a good five minutes, perhaps longer before the boy was done and then he'd have to close it up and get off. He'd watch a little of it with the volume down and then when Jost was finished and it was his turn, he could finally relieve himself in preparation for their night together.

He wouldn't watch the last one. Not tonight. There was too much painful reminder there of when they'd had to part. No, he would watch the first time he'd shot them together. Then while he was showering he could think about that and how much he wanted to do everything that he'd done with Shawn, with Jost.

File number six. Not for the sixth file, but for the age. That was how old he'd been when the video was made. The first time they'd touched exploratorily and kissed had been too spontaneous for him to prepare a camera in time to capture.

But every time after that, for almost the whole first year had been very similar. Shawn, like most boys at first was a little unsure. He'd responded to sensual touching, but was still extremely shy. Of course this would change, and did, the more experienced he became.

As soon as he hit play and it started, the same familiar nostalgia welled up inside of him, making his eyes tear up. His old home, his bedroom... the time they'd shared. Five years.

It had taken a almost a whole year just to get him ready for this first video session. Of course Shawn knew not of the cameras that were meticulously placed about the room. None of the boys he'd been with knew.

Over his time with each boy, and from watching the films he'd made, he could see the visible changes in them over the years. Changes not only in their bodies, but behaviors as well.

From this very first video, to their last, Shawn was a much different person. He'd gone from a shy, closed up little boy, to someone who was almost bold when they were intimate. Almost wanton, as their last film together had shown. It made Mason beam with pride to know just how well he'd been taught. Proof that Academe was not the only thing important in life.

Of course, Shawn's parents had been somewhat more devoted than Jost's. They were more involved with him.

At first when Shawn had come to him at the age of five, he'd only been with him for an hour to two hours per day. After several months of this, and his parents seeing the massive improvements that he'd made, they'd increased his time to three hours, then four and so on, until he was there the length of a regular school day.

It was after the increase in their time together that things had escalated. Shawn's parent's were more involved, but that didn't mean that he was getting or had gotten everything that he needed from them.

It hadn't taken long for he and Shawn to become attached. Shawn needed love, just like Jost did. He needed what they couldn't give him, or refused to give him. It had made itself known in how soon he had shown Mason affection.

Jost was a very different animal than Shawn had been. He needed love and affection, but it had taken two years for him to really show Mason what he'd wanted and needed.

The fact that his parents weren't the type to hover hadn't sped things along the way he'd hoped they would.

Both of Shawn's parents had demanding careers. They were both very intelligent people, and though they loved him, they seemed to be somewhat embarrassed by the fact that he was learning at a different rate than most boys his age, and the thought of putting him through a special needs program amongst general education children was more than what they wanted to deal with.

All the meetings alone that required them to be present, the thought of getting calls from teachers and other staff over possible problems... it was a burden they hadn't wanted to bear.

Finding Mason, to them, had been a blessing in disguise. Being with Mason allowed him to learn at his own pace, while not having to bear the horrible discomfort of being thrust into a building amongst hundreds of other children. An atmosphere that he literally could not tolerate, where he would be expected to learn, when he was literally sick from stress that his environment was causing him.

Something in him needed to be unlocked. As soon as he found the right groove for the boy, things immediately turned around. Mason had found out that he was actually quite intelligent. Asperger's.

Some of the most brilliant people in the world had been, and still were being misdiagnosed by people too blind to see what lay inside the minds of those they could not understand.

Of course each child was different. Each situation. But most could and would thrive, if they had the proper teachers and methods.

After all, Einstein's teachers had called him mentally slow, his parents had worried over his intellectual development. Thomas Edison's as well, and look at everything they accomplished.

Patience. That was all it had taken. Taking the time to find out what the boy needed to open the right doors, and once those doors were opened there was nothing stopping what they were capable of.

Learning wasn't a problem for Jost. Another difference. He could learn in any environment completely oblivious to those around him, only the ones that could aid or teach him were acknowledged. Jost, he'd thought was colder, more detached than Shawn. He was... until now.

He thought it over some more as he watched himself undress Shawn, then himself on the screen. In the cases of these two boys, the parents hadn't ended up playing a huge roll at all in how fast things evolved between them.

Shawn's parents, once they knew he was excelling and that he was happy and okay, they became almost non-existant. Just like Jost's.

It was the boys themselves that made all the difference here. Things had been so easy with Shawn that at first he'd almost wondered if someone else hadn't paved the way for him a little. But in time he'd learned that hadn't been the case. Shawn literally just loved him. He'd wanted what they'd had. He needed it.

Now he could only hope that Jost would someday feel the same way. He so wanted to have with him, what he and Shawn had shared. But Jost was so different than any other boy. Part of him was afraid that those differences wouldn't allow it.

Truth be told, deep down he didn't want them to really be the same. The boys or their relationship. He loved each one differently, separately.

Swallowing down his tears, he wiped at his eyes and focused on the screen. The noise of the shower in the background letting him know he still had plenty of time, he dragged the mouse along the bottom, clicking to speed it up to an important part.

Shawn. Dark blonde hair, cut in a typical boys fashion, lay in the middle of his bed. His head resting on Mason's bicep, as he stared up at him with giant brown eyes. The flush that stained his cheeks and ears so severe they seemed to be aflame. The color had rapidly spread down from his neck to his chest.

His slender little legs now opened to show the prize that lay between them, standing fully erect as Mason snuggled him in closer. His large hand running softly down the boy's chest to his stomach.

Watching the screen, Mason opened his hand, holding it up slightly, his lips open as he remembered how baby soft Shawn's skin had been right then. The flutters that had ran through his little body as he caressed him, watching his tiny nipples as they shrunk into sensitive, tight little nubs.

Now surveying himself as he lay there fully undressed, curled around Shawn, enough to make him feel secure and loved, but not too much that the cameras wouldn't be able to catch what he wanted on film.

His cock had been so hard at the time that he'd constantly wept from the slit, his seed streaking along his belly. The wet sheen visible even in the low light of his room.

Shawn, like most of the others, had also been fascinated by the differences in their sizes. The same, but different. That's what he had told each of them.

Every time they were together, his eyes would constantly go there... his hands, and finally, his mouth. That was one of the most exquisite things. Being pleased by his pupil.

Moving the mouse to speed it up again, he got to the part he wanted. Shawn's big chocolate colored eyes looking up into his, as the pink ring of his lips opened... his little tongue darting out, touching the tip of his swollen head... so ready...

"Mason?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 08-24 My next chapter is coming soon, more than likely some time this weekend.


	4. Caught In The Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closing his mouth, he swallowed again. His stomach cramped and twisted as he looked down. Down Mason's body to his shorts. He was a boy. A boy just like _him._ What was there? What was there, that the boy should be... should have... _Why was his head down there?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts where the other left off, but is a combination of reflection as well.

**

Mason literally shrieked!

Jost stood there, glued in place, watching as his teacher's body jerked so violently that the entire computer desk shook.

He swallowed. _Had he done something wrong?_

Then his eyes went to the computer screen.

A boy. Older than he was... had to be. He was kneeling. Kneeling between the legs of a man.

His lungs needed air! He gasped. His mind ticked away like a clock as it worked to encompass what his eyes were taking in. Trying to compute the information that the camera lenses of the body had just sent to it.

His mouth hung open. His eyes remaining locked onto the screen as it went dark. He couldn't move. It wasn't until Mason turned to him that his brain sent the message to him. They hadn't been wearing any clothes. They were both naked. The boy... kneeling between the man's legs.

He swallowed. _What did that mean? Why would they be naked? What were they doing?_

Still, his eyes remained on the darkened screen, seeing the scene replay over and over. In his peripheral he could see Mason get up from the chair. His heartbeat quickened. Very quietly and very slowly, Mason walked to him and got down onto his knees so they could look one another in the eye. He always did this.

Fluid was pooling up in his mouth. He swallowed it down. He couldn't look at him. He couldn't... he was afraid to. He'd seen something... something he shouldn't have. He could tell just by the way Mason's voice sounded. Mason was afraid too. Just like him.

"Toshiaki?" Trembling and high pitched. Fear. _But, why was Mason afraid?_

He swallowed again. Finally dragging his eyes away from the screen he looked at him. His mouth hung slack. His eyes, combing over every inch of Mason's face. His hair. Instinct took over and he took a small step back. He had to see.

His hands, moving of their own volition, lifted, touching at Mason's hair. Taking in the fact that it was shorter now than it was then. Touching the hem of his tank top where it touched his shoulder.

He saw Mason flinch as he pulled it away from his skin. His hands both taking it by the low neckline that was hanging at the top of his chest and pulling it back. Back and away, so he could see the bare skin. The blonde chest hairs that covered him.

His eyes went back to Mason's face, taking in his expression. It wasn't the same as the one he'd had before. He'd been younger. His hair, it had been longer. His hand raised, touching Mason's mouth. The visage had been one of the like that he'd never seen before. On anyone.

Mason's hands had been behind him on the bed, supporting his weight. His entire face, neck and chest had been flushed red. His wavy hair had bounced as he'd flung his head back. His mouth had hung open and his eyes were closed. He couldn't quite place the expression. It almost seemed as though he were in pain.

His mouth moved to speak, but the volume had been so low that he couldn't hear what he'd said. And the boy... the boy knelt between his spread legs. Both of his hands seemed to be right in Mason's crotch... right where his head was. And he was moving. Moving back and forth... up and down.

Closing his mouth, he swallowed again. His stomach cramped and twisted as he looked down. Down Mason's body to his shorts. He was a boy. A boy just like _him._ What was there? What was there, that the boy should be... should have... _Why was his head down there?!_

He wanted to run. He wanted to cry. He just didn't know why. Everything he felt, everything... it was hurting him. Scaring him.

**

"Toshiaki... please." He swallowed. He could barely look at him, but he was also afraid not to. He had to get it together! He had to! _Goddamnit! If he had just fucking waited! Now everything was fucked!_ _He_ was fucked!

Swallowing down his meal that was threatening to come back up, he choked out the only thing that came into his mind. "Toshiaki, I can explain... please don't be upset."

_But how could he explain?_

Just seeing the emotions as they ran across and transformed Jost's face into a mask of pure fear and confusion. It was over. Any chance he may have had with him was over. What he'd seen, it had blown his mind. Jost had seen something that was way beyond his comprehension at this present time. Something involving _him_. He would probably never trust him again, no matter what excuse he could come up with.

He had to think fast. He had to say the right thing!

Very slowly, Jost's mouth closed. His full lips pursed up until they went almost white. His little chin quivered. _Oh shit... he's going to cry. For the first time, I'm going to see him cry... and it's all because of me._

He took in a deep breath in attempt to quell his own tremors. "Please don't cry, Toshiaki. Please don't be upset with me... " Failing to hold them at bay, his own tears now spilled down his cheeks against his will. Raising a shaking hand, he wiped them away, attempting to focus on the boy in front of him through all the wetness.

No sooner than his hand lowered from his face, Jost was moving forward, his arms raised, wrapping around his neck. He froze, afraid to move as Jost clung to him. His little body shook as he wept against him, his young voice ragged as he struggled to speak clearly. "Mason... please don't... please don't cry! I'm not angry... I just... "

Slowly he brought his arms around him. His tears continuing to fall, he pleaded with him. "Toshiaki, I care for you so very much, please don't be afraid."

After a few moments Jost pulled back, wiping at his face. He wouldn't look at him though, he just stared down at the floor. _Probably just confused, or simply trying to deal with everything that just happened. The fact that they'd just cried together as well, adding to it all._

He wiped his face again, "Would you come and sit with me? Give me a chance to explain?"  

Jost nodded his head, finally raising it up, but still not meeting his eyes. Walking over to the bed, he sat down, leaving plenty of room for Jost to sit without having to be too close to him and to his surprise, the boy did so without prompt. Honestly, he kind of knew what he wanted to say, but not knowing what Jost's mind had interpreted from what he'd taken in, was afraid to divulge too much.

"Do... do you understand what you saw, Toshiaki?" He looked up at Jost. "Is that what made you afraid? I... I don't want you to feel any more uncomfortable than you already do, so if you would rather not discuss how you feel right now, I understand."

Finally, Jost spoke. Finally, he looked up at him. His eyes and nose were red, his lips puffed from his tears. "I am not sure how I feel yet." He swallowed, looking back down to the bed, his fingers intertwined. "I am not sure of what I saw, but I know that you are afraid and I'm not sure why." Another tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. "I don't want you to be upset. I don't want you to cry."

 _He had to make it sound like he'd actually done nothing wrong... like what was taking place in the film was NOT wrong._

Of course, he didn't believe that what he and Shawn and all the others had done was wrong, but how he felt and how others felt were two different things. How the law viewed it, which was exactly why he had to hide it and take such special care to protect himself.

"I don't want _you_ to be upset either, Toshiaki. That's why I am upset, because I'm afraid that you'll no longer want to be my student, that you will stop coming to see me, and _that_ would hurt me more than anything."

**

The fear of him wanting to call his mother and go home had finally passed. He wasn't going to do that, _'This place, Mason... this is more of a home for me than my own, I would never want to quit coming here.'_

The only thing left for him to say was that he considered Mason to be his father. More of a father than his own. While he knew how Jost felt, in all his foolishness and desire he had never envisioned that Jost's feelings for him would be the thing that could keep them from moving forward into the relationship that he wanted with him.

At Jost's declaration and admission, he should have felt elated. Relieved, but he couldn't.

He'd laid there in bed that night with Toshiaki by his side, his mind going over every word that had been said and every outcome possible from his reckless blunder. 

He'd tried to explain it... he had. _'There are many different types of love, Toshiaki. That boy you saw... he loved me in a way that made him want things you may not understand. I believe it was very different than the way that you feel for me. He had special, specific needs.'_

They'd talked for some time and while Jost seemed to be calm, he was still confused. He could not only see it in his face, but in his demeanor. The way his head had tilted in question when he'd tried to explain. He was too smart to be fooled. He knew that Mason was leaving things out, skirting around the truth. But how could he explain to Jost what was really happening in the video? He couldn't.

The main thing had been _this,_ Jost didn't want to be apart from him. He'd asked him if it was okay if he left him alone long enough to shower and Jost had said, no. In fact, he'd acted like he was afraid for him to leave his side, asking if he would still be able to sleep in his bed with him.

At first he'd thought it was simply just out of fear from what he'd seen, but if that was the case, wouldn't he be afraid to be alone with him?

He turned his head, looking at the small, curled up, sleeping form next to him. He hadn't divulged Shawn's name, nor anything else that could incriminate him. He didn't need to. It wouldn't matter. Jost had seen enough to have him put away for a very long time if he decided to speak to anyone about it.

There would be investigation after investigation. Every child he'd ever taught would be looked up, found, and questioned. _Shawn_ would be questioned, and no matter how much he may have loved him, or may still, he would probably spill his guts if pressed too heavily.

He swallowed, fighting back the tears that wanted to come. He couldn't risk it... could he?

Sleep hadn't come easy. When it finally did, he'd been plagued by horrible nightmares, beginning with the day that he and Shawn had said their goodbyes and ending with him opening his door to the police.

Twice, he'd woke in the middle of the night broken out in a raging sweat, his stomach knotted up in fear, and both times he'd looked over at Jost, wondering what was going to happen. Would he keep quiet about what he'd seen? And if he did, for how long would he remain silent?

What would be the thing that would trigger him to open up about it? Would it be his mother? Would she question him about what had happened during his visit when she picked him up? As adamant as she'd been about him not staying, and then angry over the fact that he'd gone against her will, he thought she would. Then what?

If they remained together, would Jost ever fully trust him? Would he ever love him in the way that he needed him to? If he had to be his teacher for however many years yet and wanting him the way that he was, but unable to have what he wanted, it would drive him to insanity. He couldn't just be Jost's father-figure and never get what he so desperately needed.

Teaching Jost full-time left him with very little free time. It'd already been over three years since he'd last been able to be with anyone, if he had to wait too much longer it would be more than he could bear. Especially with Jost right there within his grasp. Being with him all day, five days a week, he wouldn't have time to find anyone else for release.

It would be painful to lose him, but he would rather suffer through that than go to prison. There was no question about it at all. He would die before he would be touched by another man. He would die. And _that_ was something he was not ready to do.

He looked over at Jost one last time before restful sleep finally claimed him, and deep down he knew it was the internal choice he was making that allowed it. _As much as he loved him, he was not worth sacrificing his freedom for. Nor his life._

The next day would've been unbearable had he not taken action as soon as they awoke. He'd thought about doing this anyway being that they had three days together, but wasn't sure how Jost would react to it. Now, he didn't feel there was another choice. Something had to be done to take both their minds off the night before and the awkwardness that had surrounded them when the morning came. Now, looking back on it, it was the right choice. Jost had really enjoyed himself.

The season was coming to an end and with the summer heat waning some the town fair was in full swing. Along with all the 4-H barns full of a huge array of animals to go through, there would be rides and games galore. All kinds of good things to eat, giving him a break from cooking for them. They could stuff themselves on corn dogs, pretzels and popcorn of all kinds, cotton candy and caramel apples.

Almost all of the local farmers would have stands set up, selling vegetables and fruits they'd grown. People would be selling an assortment of things they'd made by hand, from quilts and blankets to furniture. You name it and you could find it there.

Avoiding the stands as neither of them had any interest in that, they stuck to the rides and games. Patrick always had a stand at the fair, selling a variety of veg from his farm and his mother may be there with him to help. Jost didn't seem to worried over whether or not they may run into each other, and neither was he. They weren't doing anything out of the ordinary. Simply there having fun.

It was more than Jost would've had if he'd stayed at home. He'd probably have opted out of coming simply due to the fact that he would've been on his own, instead of having someone to go through the carnival with him. At the end of the night, before they left, Mason stood watching him as he sat still, allowing the artist to paint his face. Choosing a design that resembled an Asian ceremonial mask, it was fitting.

He was wearing a mask of own, just without the paint. As much fun as he was having, his heart was filled with melancholy. He couldn't help it. He would hang on to every moment... every second.

**

Foreseeing what was more than likely going to happen, he'd made an excuse as to why _he_ wouldn't be able to drop him off and they'd called his mother the night before, asking if she could come and get him in the morning. Early. He had things that needed to be taken care of. Jost hadn't seemed put off by it.

They'd gone through the motions, at least _he_ had. And while Jost was really trying, reaching out to him more and more, and possibly the last morning they were to be together he'd finally said what Mason was dreading. What he knew was coming. "I've thought a great deal about this, and I don't believe that I will be able to love you the way that boy did, Mason. But... I do love you... in my own way."

As his mother had pulled into the drive, Jost got up from the chair he was in and walked to him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Very softly, the boy spoke the words into his stomach. "Please don't worry, Mason. I will always want to be here."

He hugged him back, handing his duffle to him so he'd have something to do with his hands while he walked to his mother's vehicle. He watched him get in, taking in every inch of him. Every curl that was out of place, the color of his eyes and lips, the sound of his voice. 

He had no way of knowing how much longer they would have together. It could be as soon as tomorrow after their lessons when they decided to act. He wouldn't know, and he didn't want to. The less he knew, the better. The easier it would be for him to move on. What he _did_ know, was each day, waiting for it to happen would be agonizing... nerve wracking.

Carefully, he pasted on his smile, forcing down the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him and waved goodbye to him as they drove away. 

For a long few minutes he stood in the driveway, watching the dust settle back down from where her Land Rover had sat. He couldn't move. The horrible pain in his heart paralyzing him, rooting him to the spot. He had to do this, there was no other choice. 

It was Monday, and given the time they'd just had with each other they'd decided to take a day off, away from one another. This definitely wasn't the outcome he'd planned when they'd set this little visit up, but now he was thankful that he had it. It would give him time to prepare. To ready himself for what was coming.

Working up the will to move, he headed back into the house and got busy. Going from room to room, he removed every camera, placing them all on his bed, cleaning as he went. Always a meticulous housekeeper, he still felt the need to be extra thorough.

While he worked, he remembered the night they'd gotten back from the carnival. After taking numerous photos of Jost wearing the face paint, he'd had to tell him to make sure that it was all washed off. But even after that, and then yesterday during their time in the pool, he still had remnants of it in the hairline around his face. 

Those photos, and all the others that were on his phone and computer, those could stay. There was nothing questionable about them. Nothing incriminating. After all, he'd been his teacher for the last two years and everyone knew that they were close. When the police came to question him they would possibly confiscate the computer he used for his and Jost's study lessons, along with his laptop and his phone to look through them before giving them back. They would find nothing. 

He was highly aware of all the necessary steps to take. He'd taken every precaution. The computer that normally sat in his room, along with the cameras and any other devices he used for his personal entertainment, would be sealed safely within a secret internal hallway inside of his home. Something that he and Matt had found, quite by accident, while doing some renovations after he'd bought the old place. 

He never, ever used the same computer he housed his treasured videos and pictures on to connect to the internet, and he knew better than to try and wipe the hard drive. They would view this act alone, as an attempt to hide or destroy evidence. It would immediately appear suspicious. So it was best for them to not even know of the computer's existence. 

Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he moved the portrait on the wall aside and unlocked the safe that was hidden therein, pulling out the phone. Dialing the number he knew by heart, he honestly didn't think it would get that far. With the way these people worked, Jost would more than likely be taken right out from under one of his parent's noses... while in their custody. All he had to do was act normal. Sit and wait.

Kids disappeared every day. This would be no different. 

Fourteen hours difference in time didn't matter. It was around 2:00 am now in Japan... the local that he was calling, anyway. The voice on the other line answered. There wasn't the thickness or slowness of speech that would normally be present when one had just been woken and had to speak. Crisp, clear and cold. He would only speak in Japanese to him, never in English. And he _knew_ if Mason was calling him, what it entailed.

Now, was when his resolve crumbled. Now. As soon as he had to speak, he lost it. His voice stuttered and broke as he grabbed his kitchen table by the edge to try and calm himself, his breath coming out harsh and rasping.

A soft chuckle, no doubt at his show of weakness, came through the earpiece. His tears fell onto the wooden table like rain drops. "He's yours... do what you need to do."

"The funds will be transferred. You know the time frame."

The line went dead. Nothing else had to be said. He knew what to do with the phone. He knew not to contact him again, there was no need. The money, more than he would ever need, would be transferred within a six month period into the account of an alias. When he was ready, no less than one to two years from the time of Jost's disappearance, he would sell his home and move. More than likely to somewhere _NOT_ in the U.S. and more than likely at some point, Matt would join him.

"Matt... " he sighed, running the back of his forearm over his face. 

Laying the phone on the table, he thought of Matt. It would be easier for him to act naturally if he was unaware of what was just about to take place. Of course, when Jost came up missing... when it was reported, he would know exactly what was going on, and why.

It would be a long time until he would hear from him personally, and it would be on a secure line. Then, and only then, would Matt be there to console him. He would need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a mix of Mason and Jost. Starting where this one leaves off, a bit of reflection but mostly real time.


End file.
